From Twinkle, With Love(77)
“Hey,” he said, his eyes gentle as always. He was dressed in a green and blue striped button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black jeans. His hair was spiked and he was clean-shaven. It was a punch to the gut, a forcible reminder of all those times he’d taken me in his arms, all the times we’d kissed, all the sweet words he’d whispered that were now scattered to the winds. “You ready for this?”
Taking a deep breath, I patted my lucky film-reel hair sticks. The charm bracelet Maddie had given me clinked on my wrist. I was also wearing my lucky film-reel toe socks, but he didn’t need to know that. “I think so. I mean, can you ever be ready for your first-ever film screening?”
He smiled, but there was a distance that had never been there before. “I guess not. I heard it’s going to be a full house tonight too.” He must’ve seen the utter panic on my face, because he added quickly, “It’s going to be great. You’re a gifted director, and we’ve worked hard on the movie. People are gonna love it.”
I realized how … professionally aloof his words were. He was purposely holding me at arm’s length, afraid to let me get too close. “Thanks, Sahil,” I said, wondering if he could hear the tears threatening, the pain and regret behind every syllable.
I wanted to say all the things I was holding back. I wanted to play our road trip game again.
Did you hear I’ve tossed and turned without you since you walked away from me?
Did you hear I’m wondering if you’ll ever stop hating me?
Did you hear I don’t care about your brother beyond the fact that he’s your brother?
Did you hear I’m falling in love with you?
But I didn’t say any of the above.
“Well …,” Sahil said, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “I should, um … go get the props from the SUV. Skid and Aaron are waiting for me in the parking lot.”
“Okay.” I watched him walk away. I waited for him to look at me at some point before he disappeared. But he never did.
Our movie was scheduled to play last. I sat backstage through all the acts before ours—including the pineapple chopping by CC and his friends which, miraculously, didn’t end with anyone having to go to urgent care—with a pounding heart and a completely dry mouth.
When it was time for the festival to begin and I’d given the tech person the thumb drive with our movie and the bonus footage on it, I walked back out to the audience. All the Dracula actors and stagehands were sitting together, toward the front. Someone had saved me a seat in the middle, with a sign on the back that said DRACULA DIRECTOR—RESERVED. I grinned as I sat, with Sahil on one side of me and Maddie on the other. They both sat stiffly, making sure not to get in my personal space at all, but I was too distracted to be distraught.
I’d already seen the movie, naturally, so while it played, I kept my eye on the audience. I think it’s an epic compliment that the entire auditorium of about one thousand people was completely silent while the movie played. The actors and actresses beside me were all wide-eyed. I realized that for most of them, this was the first time they were experiencing the absolute magic of seeing themselves transformed by a story. Maddie kept beaming at various scenes, her eyes shining in the darkness, like she was so utterly proud. I was incredibly happy for her in those moments, I can’t even tell you.
And then … then the behind-the-scenes footage began to play. As the last scene faded and the segue music played, my heart started to thunder. Skid and I looked at each other, and he gave me a tiny thumbs-up. I felt Maddie stiffen beside me. The other actors and actresses all shifted around and looked uncomfortable, probably remembering all the awful things they’d said and wondering how I’d portray them and their secrets on-screen.
The first candid scene began.
It was a shot of Sherie Williams at the Aspen cabin, talking about how she’d been failing a bunch of classes. The cheer coach had told her she couldn’t be on the team anymore unless she brought her GPA up, so all the other cheerleaders had taken turns tutoring her after school every day in the classes they were best at. Sherie had managed to bring her GPA up to a 3.0 and stayed on the team.
The scene faded into a shot of Francesca Roberts talking about how her friends, all of whom she’d known since kindergarten, had “kidnapped” her from school on her sixteenth birthday and taken her to Six Flags, her favorite place in the world.
Vic, Lewis, and Taylor were next. I watched people leaning forward, to take in each story, their faces shining, laughing with the people on-screen. I watched people looking at one another, their eyes busy with memories, connecting because of my movie. I saw parents put their arms around their children, best friends hug.
And it hit me fully: I wanted to make movies that would bring people together, not ones that would tear them apart. And if that meant I had to be penniless and unsung all my life, then that was okay with me. Some things were more important than fame and money.
As the footage wound to a close, Sahil took my hand. Just for a second. I was so shocked, I didn’t even close my fingers around his before the audience broke out into thunderous applause, many of them even giving us a standing ovation, and by then Sahil had already pulled away. I stood too, and clapped for everyone around me, all the actors, actresses, the stagehands, the technicians, my producer. Sahil, Maddie, and I were grinning and cheering and happy. Just for that second.